


Orbit

by ShipInABottle



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 02:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16588643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipInABottle/pseuds/ShipInABottle
Summary: It's been years, and regardless of his duty as a Prince, he still can't shake the want from his heart.





	Orbit

**Author's Note:**

> The summary makes this fic sound more sophisticated than it is... make no mistake... it isn't really... I just have no idea what to write for the summary /or/ the title.
> 
> This first chapter happens in the aftermath of Abhorsen. 
> 
> Don't hesitate to tell me if I made any mistakes spelling/grammar wise. This is unbeta'd.

Sam sat in one of the hastily erected tents, rubbing at his face with his hand. Elli was in another, looking over their aunt, who had passed out as soon as she had been set on a cot, clutching her soapstone Dog in her good hand.

He had been overseeing the transportation of the spheres but his parents had told him to get some rest.

Charter… His parents.

They were still alive.

He hadn't had time to fully come to terms with their deaths, but now, seeing them still standing, he wasn't sure if he could fully believe it. He peeked out from the side of the tent, and saw them conferring together with the Clayr twins. He forced himself to relax. They were alright, as much as any of them were, he just had to remember that.

A small cough came from the body lying on the cot besides him. Another miracle, although it was more a parting gift from a meddlesome being, as Mogget would say. Or well, maybe it was Yrael now.

The body rolled over slowly to reveal the face of his childhood friend, recently deceased, and recently revived.

 

Sam had been walking with the six others, with Lirael supported by Sanar and Ryelle by her sides, when they'd found him. He'd kept close to his parents, hardly daring to leave their side. He'd felt young and nothing like they'd just had a victory so close. They had all been walking in silence, no words could have filled it, no words to encompass what had happened, except, maybe-

“We did it.” his voice came out hushed.

“We did.” His father's voice was steadfast, a firm hand at his shoulder.

Sam let out an incredulous laugh, weariness seeping through. Even his sister, the confident and unflappable Ellimere, was worn around the edges. His mother smiled at him, and his father looked like a weight had been lifted from him, as they all did.

“We have much to discuss, and many things to plan.” said Sabriel, her hand gripped tight with Touchstone's.

“Yes–”

They all started as a slender white form slipped between their feet, tail brushing against their legs.

Mogget- Yrael- had reverted back to his feline form, after the echoes of Belgaer had died out. He'd claimed he had gotten used to it.

They only had a short time to wonder where he was going, before a body stood up, swaying slightly. Everyone who could, reached for their weapons, but then the body waved at them, a Charter mark glowing on his forehead. The familiarity of the form stole Sam's breath.

It was Nicholas. He was alive.

Sam broke away from his group, closing the short distance between them, keeping his sword loosely held in his hand. Just in case.

“You're alive.” he breathed out.

“That does seem to be the case, doesn't it?” Nick was grinning at him, albeit a bit weakly.

“Do you mind if I–?” Sam reached his hand up towards the mark slightly obscured by Nick's hair.

“Yeah. No, I mean, of course. Go ahead.”

Sam brushed Nick's hair aside, letting his fingers touch the mark. He saw Nick reach up to mimic his actions, just before the mark glowed, and then he was surrounded by the Charter.

He floated for that moment within the Charter. It was familiar and comforting, though there seemed to be an edge, an almost primeval wildness there. Sam pulled back, still musing about that strangeness. It was likely that the edge was a remnant of Nick's time with the fragment of the Destroyer. Free Magic lingered in him.

“Well, that's quite something else.” stated Nick, a moment later. He was staring wondrously at the Charter mark on Sam's forehead, still glowing.

A wide smile broke over Sam's face, and Nick responded in kind. Sam let his sword drop, and pulled Nick into a full embrace, mindful of all the bruises on his friend. Nick's lifted his arms up, bringing his hands to rest lightly against his shoulders.

“You're alive,” Sam repeated once again, “You're alive.”

 

\------

 

Afterwards, they'd made their way towards the campsite the surviving scouts had set up. Sam had had to support Nick, as when he had tried to walk on his own, his legs had given out. Days and weeks of being Orannis’s avatar had weakened him dreadfully.

Sam had helped Nick to the tent they were directed to, to put Nick to rest. Lirael and Nick were initially put on stretchers, but as soon as the tents were set up they were moved again. It had been too easy to hold Nick up, Sam could see his ribs through the tatters of his shirt. He'd gone back to assist the others in planning and overseeing of the transportation of the spheres, but here he was again, back in the tent.

A muffled noise drifted from where Nick had rolled over to face him. Sam glanced over in time to see him attempt to get up. Sam leaned over to help him sit upright.

“Hullo.” murmured Nick. He was staring at Sam through half shut eyes, still tired. They had tried all the healing spells they knew on Nick, but most had just slid off of him, and those that had stuck could only work at a fraction of their usual power.

“Hey,” Sam reached out to rest his hand on Nick's arm, “We’re going to be moving people to hospitals soon. It’ll likely be best for you to heal through the more conventional means you're used to. The spells work to some extent, but, well, it's not the best.”

“That's alright, old thing. It's a wonder it works at all, really.” Nick brushed his fingers across his newly acquired Charter mark, a faint smile on his face as he felt it warm to the touch.

Sam caught Nick's hand in his, as Nick dropped it from his forehead. It was so thin, like the rest of the man, who seemed at once so old, yet so young. Sam was used to Nick filling all the space around himself, even if it was a distracted kind of presence. Nick was born into an important family, and it showed in the way he carried himself. It felt wrong to see him like this, weaker and smaller than he'd ever been, since the plague that had swept through Somersby back in third year.

Nick raised an eyebrow, but he didn't pull back from his grip, instead giving his hand a squeeze, like Sam was the one that needed comforting. He was probably right.

“How’s Lirael? And, by the way, I can't believe you've never told me you had such a lovely aunt.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but he knew that Nick was just joking around.

“She'll recover well enough, you saw. She's asleep now, I think.”

Nick sobered up, “She was the reason I knew myself at all, y'know? For the past few days, since she visited, as an owl no less. I owe her for reminding me of who I was.”

Using his free hand, he reached down to grasp something from the cuff of his trousers. It seemed like he had just recalled it.

He lifted the object up and showed it to Sam as he curiously looked on. There were Charter marks that seemed familiar, dancing along the surface of the object. It was a broken shard of a wind flute.

“This helped too, in its own way. I held onto it because of Lirael. It kept me sane.”

The Charter spells on the flute piece must have worked against the hold Orannis had on Nick, even for a little while. Nick made as if to put the shard back in the cuff. Sam noted that he didn't seem willing to discard it, even when it's purpose had already been served.

“I could fasten that piece into something easier for you to keep if you want?”

A few months ago, Nick would have scoffed at the idea of keeping something so closely resembling a talisman, but now he just nodded, hesitantly handing the shard over to Sam.

They were both quiet for some time, thinking, letting themselves relax in the lull, before Nick spoke up again.

“I suppose that you all are curious about how I came back to life.”

Sam nodded, “Yeah. C'mon, I'll help you to Lirael's tent.”

Sam let go of Nick's hand to put an arm under Nick's shoulder, moving Nick's arm over his shoulder, and helped him get to his feet. Sam frowned down at the tattered state of Nick's clothing.

“We'll have to get you new clothes as soon as possible. We're in Ancelstairre now so it wouldn't be as easy to just wave this away, even this close to the wall.”

Nick looked down at himself, “I wouldn’t mind a change of clothing.”

“I'll look for something you can wear, while you tell the rest how you were revived.”

Nick nodded.

They made their way to the tent Lirael was held up in. Sam helped Nick sit near his aunt, and went off to find the others. When they got back to the tent, Lirael was up and talking with Nick in low voices. They glanced up when they entered the tent, and Nick waved at them.

“You know how you came to life, then?” asked Touchstone, more of a statement than a question.

Nick inclined his head in assent, proceeding to detail his time in Death, and all that Kibeth said to him. Sam slipped out halfway through his retelling to look for something Nick could wear over his clothes.

He came back a while later with a spare scouts uniform. It had taken the scouts a while to retrieve clothes for their own officers, so Sam had taken the time to check the progress of the moving. Nick had finished his retelling and was being queried by the others. Lirael was leaning against Nick, faint tear tracks down her face.

Sam shooed everyone out of the tent, except Nick, and Lirael, who's tent it was. He handed Nick the clothes and helped him back to the other tent, with a lingering hand on Lirael's shoulder.

Nick had changed with Sam's help and they'd settled down in their original positions in the tent, talking about nothing in particular. Nick was too worn out to carry any meaningful conversation.

In the midst of reminiscing about their Somersby days, Sabriel entered the tent. They both greeted Sam’s mother, Nick too tired to be awkward. Sabriel wanted Nick to follow them back to Belisaere, to watch over the contrasting magics within him.

“No.” Nick shook his head, and then realising who he was talking to, “Uh, I mean, no offence intended, but I think I'd rather return home.”

Sabriel frowned, but made no further protest, “If you're sure.”

“I am, ma'am.”

She left then, and Sam assumed she didn't pursue the issue because if Nick was far south enough, then surely the magics would be dormant. Sam would be sad to see his friend go, but it was probably safer for him.

 

\------

 

They moved to a hospital soon after, the hospital in Bain again, where the doctors and nurses knew not to question anything.

The first night there, Sam had curled up beside Nick, unwilling to move from his friend's side. Lirael hadn't commented, she knew the need for comfort.

Nick had been checked over by the staff there and he hadn't been lucid enough to take proper note of Sam's actions. He'd just shuffled closer on the small bed, and fell asleep. It had almost been like when they were kids, although then it had been easier to fall asleep, no nightmares to plague them.

Sam sat with Nick in the now empty room. They were on the edge of the hospital bed. Lirael had been placed in the bed beside Nick, but was now getting ready to pass through the Wall back to Belisaere.

Sam had worked on the flute piece, carving it and using a bit of leather to fix it into a necklace. He'd strengthened the Charter spells on it, and added some new ones. He'd handed it to Nick that morning, and it now hung around his neck.

“My parents sent word. I'm to be transferred back to Corvere, where my parents can keep an eye on me. Or rather, the physicians they pay can keep an eye on me. I'll be moved as soon as the people they sent arrive.”

“You're sure I can't convince you to follow us back to the Old Kingdom?”

“Yes… I… need some time. Without everything about the Old Kingdom.” Nick was looking down at his hands. His right arm was bandaged up, and underneath the hospital gown, his chest was in the same condition. He remembered that Sam was from the Old Kingdom and hastened to add, “Not including you, of course. Just, I think I need a break from excitement.”

“You? Mister I-want-to-know-everything?” teased Sam, lightly.

“I know! I know,” Nick sighed dramatically, “There comes a time when even aspiring scientists need to rest their curiosity, to reconnect with the world around them.”

Sam rolled his eyes, a soft smile upon his lips.

“I should get going, it'll take us awhile to get back to the capital.”

“Write some time, alright? I know you'll be busy doing princely things, but I'd like to at least hear from you some of the time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam waved him off, embarrassed. He knew he was a terrible correspondent, he used to be reminded of that every holiday when he went back home from Somersby, “I'll try to remember.”

He stood up, hesitating. Nick looked up at him and he made his mind, leaning down to hug his friend. Nick returned the embrace.

“Stay safe, yeah?” Sam murmured into Nick's shoulder, where he'd buried his head.

“Me? I should be telling you that,” replied Nick. He was pushing up into the hug, holding Sam as close as Sam was trying to hold him, “I'm not the one who'll get chased by creepy undead things. The only thing I'll have to worry about is politics and how mad my mum and dad are gonna be.” 

“Politicians are plenty vicious,” said Sam, wryly, and then, as a softer aside, “I'm going to miss you.”

“Oh you definitely will, what’ll you do without my riveting company? Although I'm sure your aunt and sister are just as enchanting.”

“Oy, quit it.” Sam smacked the back of Nick's head lightly.

Nick just laughed, letting go of Sam.

“You're an arse.”

“I'm sure it's a nice arse.” Nick waggled his eyebrows lasciviously.

Sam could feel the warmth at his neck wanting to creep up, but squashed it down with years of practice. He rolled his eyes, “You're ridiculous.”

Nick was about to retort, when a knock alerted them to Sam's father, standing at the door.

“We're moving soon, Sameth.”

“I'll be there in a moment.”

Touchstone nodded, and let the door shut. A moment later, his footsteps could be heard moving down the corridor.

An awkward silence settled over them, both not really knowing how to say goodbye. Sam broke it by bursting out, “You'll visit eventually though, right?”

Nick nodded, though he didn't look too sure of it. It was still too soon to know. Sam sighed, but he knew that was the best he could get for now. He'd just have to keep to his promise to write him, and try to convince him to visit in his letters.

Sam took a step back, towards the door, but made no further move to leave.

Nick let his arms fall open, anticipating the embrace, closing in on Sam just as he stepped in. Sam lingered just an instant, before pulling back, brushing the side of Nick's face with his hand.

“I'm really, really glad you're alive, you know,” he said in an undertone.

Nick placed his own hand over Sam's, hesitant.

“There was a moment there, back in… Death, that it felt like…” Nick paused, struggling to find the words. He was looking at a point over Sam's shoulder, avoiding his stare. He took a breath and started anew, “After the Dog told me you lot were okay, I wanted to let go.”

Sam's hand twitched under Nick's, “The river is like that. We all get the pull. None of us leave without a fight.”

“I guess, but, I was also, uh, I suppose I thought that I'd done enough, you know? I brought about the Destroyer, and then you lot killed him and I was dead. It was enough to know you were all alive,” Nick huffed out a small laugh, more tired than amused, “The Dog was pretty convincing, though.

“I'm not entirely too sure what she said anymore, it's a bit fuzzy. Also, I still can't really believe that she could just take me out of Death just like that.”

“She's the Disreputable Dog. She does whatever she wants.”

Nick nodded, a small smile for the dog.

“But, I guess that's also part of the reason I have to return. I have to find out if I can live past this, y'know?”

Sam sighed, “Yeah, alright.”

“You really should get going. We'll see each other, yeah?”

Sam nodded, pulling his hand away, Nick's own slipping to rest on the bed.

Before he gave himself time to think about, he quickly bent forward and pressed a kiss onto Nick's forehead. Sam could feel the warmth of the Charter as the mark flared under his lips. Just as quickly, he stepped back, eyes flicking to Nick's face in time to see a dumbfounded look appear.

Sam ducked his head and murmured a farewell, and another promise to write.

He was already halfway out the door when he heard Nick shout.

“You better!”

Sam felt himself smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely love Lirael/Nick in canon but I'm also a sucker for childhood/best friends to lovers so there.
> 
> Also has anyone talked about the potential forehead kisses+baptismal Charter marks have because... I'm absolutely in love with it.


End file.
